


Love without Masks

by rubberglue



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, F/M, Secret Identity
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-31
Updated: 2017-09-08
Packaged: 2018-08-12 05:27:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7922248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rubberglue/pseuds/rubberglue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Like many others, Gwen is fascinated with Dragoon and the Swordsman. She might also have a teeny, tiny crush on the Swordsman. She is happy watching them from afar until she is suddenly dragged into the middle of a war between them and a mysterious force.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Gwen should really have known better. She was a Camelot girl, born and bred in this bustling metropolis, and yet here she was, clinging to a branch clearly not capable of supporting her weight for much longer, with a large manticore prowling below, hissing and snarling at her. 

A creak.

Gwen tightened her grip on the branch, the rough bark cutting into her skin. 

The manticore reared up and growled, a low, rumbling sound that Gwen could feel in her bones. She suppressed a shudder.

“You know, Dragoon, if you’re around, this would be a really good time to rescue me!” 

The branch seemed to bend a little more. If Dragoon wasn’t going to turn up, she needed an escape plan. Her eyes focused on her apartment block across the road. The streets were empty although some lights were switched on in the block. Gwen suspected that no one could see her in the tree. Obviously, everyone was smarter than her, staying at home and locking their doors during the full moon. 

The manticore growled once more, this time, slamming his substantial weight against the tree, causing it to shake.

“Stop hitting the tree. I can’t think and cling to a branch at the same time.” She had to distract the manticore to buy herself enough time to dash across the road and into the safety of her apartment. 

“Hey manticore!”

In response, the manticore growled again. 

Gingerly reaching back, Gwen unhooked one of her shoes and dangled it in front of the manticore. True to its cat-like form, its eyes latched onto the swinging, red shoe, following its every swing. Such a pity it was her favourite. 

“Here, manticore.” With as much force as she could, considering that she was clinging onto a branch that was quickly giving way with only one arm, she tossed her shoe away from the tree. 

As she’d hoped, the manticore turn its head to follow the trajectory of the shoe, it’s front paws twitching as if it wanted to chase after the shoe. 

"Go on! Get the shoe!" Gwen didn't really think that the manticore would understand her instructions but it wasn't like she had many options at the moment. She glanced up into the sky, wondering if she would see the familiar purple burst of light that accompanied Dragoon's entrance but all she saw were the stars winking mockingly at her.

Slipping off her other shoe, she repeated her actions. 

Her shoe arched gracefully in the air and this time, the manticore reacted, swivelling and launching itself at the shoe. The moment the manticore turned its back on her, Gwen let go of the branch, landing painfully on her foot, but she had no time to worry about that.

The good thing about being barefoot was that it was easier to run than wearing her usual heels. The bad thing was that stones and gravel dug into the soles of her feet, sending sharp pains shooting through her. Perhaps she shouldn’t have skipped her weekly exercise class so often, then she wouldn’t be panting so much. Gwen gulped in a mouthful of air just as she heard a growl just behind her.

Damn. She willed her legs to move faster. Shelter beckoned just minutes away, if she could outrun a large, supernatural cat that was keen to devour her for dinner. 

Purple light flashed. 

She stumbled, landing on her knees on the hard asphalt. Quickly, she swung around, hoping to catch a glimpse of Dragoon. In the moonlight, she could make out his dark hair and slender physique. Pretty sure that she was safe, she lingered. It wasn’t every day she got to watch the great Dragoon in action live and she deserved it after the harrowing experience moments ago.

Dragoon must have cast some sort of trap as she saw the manticore struggle against some invisible bonds. It growled and snarled but whatever it was holding him remained firm. He glanced to the side, and it was then Gwen noticed that his loyal sidekick, the Swordsman, was here as well. As predictable as clockwork, her heart sped up. Dragoon was Camelot’s hero but it was his sidekick that Gwen had the most inconvenient crush on. The Swordsman moved like a dancer, graceful and smooth, confidence oozing from him as he wielded the sword he carried. And although a red hood pulled low obscured his features, Gwen imagined that he was a dark and broodingly handsome, like many of her favourite literary heroes. 

The Swordsman lifted his sword with his usual grace, and plunged it into the manticore. Immediately, the manticore burst into an explosion of dust. 

Gwen gasped and Dragoon and the Swordsman turned to look at her. 

“You should go home.” Dragoon rasped, taking a step back. 

For a moment, Gwen thought that the Swordsman was about to approach her, and her heart started to beat wildly. But it must have been wishful thinking on her part, because he didn’t.

“Thank you,” she said.

The Swordsman smiled, his eyes hidden under the hood. “Take care.”

Gwen nodded, a whole hue of emotions coursing through her, rendering her tongue-tied. She looked at Dragoon again, trying to make out his features in the moonlight but as usual, he was shrouded in darkness. Gwen suspected it was a spell he cast on himself since he wore no mask. 

And then, in a flash of purple light, she was all alone, kneeling in the middle of the road. 

Gwen picked herself up with as much dignity as she could and brushed dirt off her hands and knees. The area might be devoid of people, but Gwen wasn’t foolish enough to think that no-one was peering from their windows, especially with the bright purple lights signalling Dragoon’s appearance. It was bad enough that she was the damsel in distress. She would at least be a dignified damsel in distress.

“Need someone to walk you home?”

The slightly teasing voice made her smile and she turned to see Arthur leaning casually against a lamp post with his arms crossed. 

“Hey you. You could have gotten here earlier to save me from the manticore.” 

Arthur pushed himself off the lamp post and walked towards her. “And deprive you of being rescued by the Swordsman and Dragoon? How would you ever get your book written?”

“Dragoon and the Swordsman,” said Gwen automatically as she fell into step next to him, partly because it was an easy way to annoy Arthur. Even in the darkness, Gwen knew he was rolling his eyes at her.

“You know, the Swordsman does as much, if not more, than Dragoon. Just because he has sparkly purple lights, he gets top billing.”

Gwen laughed, her body releasing all the tension from earlier. “Why are you out on a full moon anyway?”

“I should be asking you that! I heard that someone was being menaced by a manticore in this area, and I figured it would be you.”

“Aww.” Gwen stopped walking and placed a hand on Arthur’s arm, copping a feel of the muscles that bunched under her touch. “And you thought you’d come save me?”

“No. I thought I would come watch you get torn limb from limb by a manticore. Really, Gwen.” The teasing in his voice disappeared, replaced by frustration and muted anger. “I know you’re determined to write a book about Dragoon but putting yourself in danger is ridiculously foolish.”

She pulled her hand away. “I didn’t do it on purpose. I forgot it was a full moon. And you’re the reason I forgot, so maybe you should be angry with yourself.”

“Me?”

“Yup. Because I was too busy worrying about your book. The publisher wants to see some chapters soon. And you haven’t given me that interview you promised.”

They reached her apartment block, and Arthur, like he always did, lifted the keys from her hand and opened the main door for her. 

“The book isn’t that important,” said Arthur from behind her as they climbed the two storeys to her flat. 

“Not to you. There must be a million unauthorised biographies about you in the bookshops. But it’s important to me.”

Once again, Arthur unlocked her front door for her, then dropped the key into her outstretched palm. “I’ll sign off on whatever you write and you’ll get the money anyway. It doesn’t matter what you write. The public will eat it up. You’ve been given the advance already, right?”

Gwen scowled at him. “It’s not just the money. If I write a terrible book, it’s my reputation at stake! Aside from those articles and a few short stories I published, this is my big break. I can’t write some second rate book.”

"Well," said Arthur as placed his hands on her shoulders and maneuvered her to sit on her sofa. “I chose you to write my official biography because firstly, you’re a great writer and secondly, you know me. You know me more than my own father does. I have complete faith in you writing a great biography of me.” Then he tutted and shook his head. “Look at you. You’ve lost your shoes and there are scratches all over your arms and legs.”

Before she could say anything, Arthur had disappeared into her bathroom. Leaning back into her sofa, letting her head drop back, Gwen let out a sigh. While she was immensely grateful and secretly thrilled that Dragoon and the Swordsman had turned up to rescue her, she was glad Arthur had turned up. Adrenaline was still pumping through her and his presence would definitely help her calm down. Arthur and ice cream. Gwen was sure she had ice cream in her freezer.

“Hey Arthur!”

“Hmm?” He stepped out of her bathroom, laden with all the first aid things he could find. “Did you know that half the things in your first aid box is expired?”

“I don’t get injured that much,” she shrugged. “You know what isn’t expired? The cookie dough ice cream in my freezer.” 

“After I wash your scratches.”

“Promise? You have to share it with me or I’ll eat the whole tub.”

His laugh was soft and Arthur tucked a strand of stray hair behind her ear. “I’ve seen that happen. It was not a good sight. At least, not the aftermath.”

Affection filled Gwen and she smiled down at the top of his blonde head as he kneeled in front of her and busied himself dabbing at the scratches on her legs. Arthur Penn, one time World Champion fencer and now owner the huge conglomerate that was Albion Media, most eligible bachelor three years in a row and no good playboy, was one of her best friends. All thanks to that scholarship she got to university. That and Merlin.

“If you keep staring at me like that, I’ll think that you’ve become like all those people who swear they are in love with me.” 

Gwen grinned. “We both know me falling for you is about as likely as Merlin quitting all those soap operas he loves. Speaking of Merlin, why isn’t he with you?”

“He’s not quite as foolish to venture out on a full moon.”

“Smart man. And you?”

Arthur lifted his head. “I told you, I heard you were in trouble.”

“How did – ouch! Hey, be gentle. I’m injured.”

“They aren’t that deep. Don’t be a baby.”

Gwen touched his hair, running her hand through the soft strands. “Thank you. For caring.”

His eyes met hers again, and he held her gaze. And again, that strange tension built between them and Gwen couldn’t look away. Then he blinked, flashed her a wide smile and flicked her nose. “You’d do the same for me, hopefully.”

“Hopefully.” And she stuck out her tongue to break the weird mood.

With a sigh, Arthur got up and sat down next to her on the sofa. “Arms. Then ice cream.”

She agreed with that sequence of events, so she obediently stuck out her arms for him.


	2. Chapter 2

His phone rang, rudely jolting him from a very nice dream that he had been having which involved Gwen, a bubble bath and very little clothes. Cracking an eye open, he saw Merlin's smiling mug on the screen of his phone.

Once a cockblocker, always a cockblocker.

"This had better be important. Like world ending important."

"Good morning to you too!" chirped Merlin into his ear. "I analysed the ash of the manticore and –"

Arthur threw an arm across his face and groaned. "Don't you sleep, Merlin? I know you fancy yourself some sort of great magician -"

"Wizard –"

"Whatever, but try to behave like a normal person."

"Right," said Merlin. "I'm coming over so get out of bed and put on some clothes."

Arthur swore but Merlin had hung up, leaving a photo of a laughing Gwen on his screen. Gently, he ran a thumb across it and guilt once again gnawed at him. Tossing the phone aside, he got out of bed and padded into his bathroom.

He was drinking his coffee when Merlin walked in. "Giving you a copy of the keys was the worst idea."

Ignoring him, Merlin strode to the bookshelf and pushed at the wall next to it. Slowly, the bookshelf revolved, opening up to a room. When Arthur continued to sip his coffee, Merlin popped his head out of the room. "It involves Gwen."

"Damn." Arthur took a gulp of his coffee, then went after Merlin. The secret room – although it was so small, Arthur thought it was more closet than room – was the main reason Arthur had made this small estate his residence. That and the fact that it was tucked away from the main hustle and bustle of Camelot city. A large map of Camelot hung on one wall, decorated with various coloured tacks and strings, inspired a little by all the cop shows Merlin loved to watch. To its side was a weapons rack with a variety of swords and axes. Arthur's favourite sword, Excalibur, took a position of pride in the rack. A small cupboard and a table strewn with books made up the rest of the room.

Merlin tapped on the large Camelot map. "This is where the attack happened last night."

"I know that. I was there." Leaning against the table, Arthur crossed his arms. "I still don't see any pattern."

"That's because you're not very observant. But, to be fair, I didn't either, until I started wondering why a manticore would be dispatched to attack on Gwen's street. Unlike the other attacks, Gwen's place isn't near any ley lines."

Arthur frowned and stared at the maps and the little blue pins that marked where all the previous attacks had taken place. While there had always been leaks between the other side and this world, especially during the full moon, in the past year, there had been a change in the creatures that had been coming through – they were more dangerous and Merlin, in his obsessive tracking of all the creatures they defeated, realised that they had traces of magic cast on them by a third party.

Merlin tapped the map again. "I think the common denominator is Gwen."

Then, Arthur saw it. Gwen's office. Gwen's favourite coffee shop. Gwen's best friend's (who wasn't him) office. Gwen's brother's car workshop. The library where she did her writing.

"Damn," Arthur said again. "This has never happened before."

"It looks targetted. Not the random escapees that we usually deal with." Merlin frowned as he stared at the map, his fingers gently tracing the threads. "Do we tell Gwen?"

"That she's being targeted or about us?"

"Both? Honestly, I'm surprised that someone as smart as she is hasn't figured it out."

Arthur rubbed his forehead trying to ease away the beginnings of a headache. "Remind me why we never told her?"

"Because she freaked out the last time we told her, hopped on the first ship out of Camelot and we never found her again. Also, I rather not have another TLS."

"TLS. Is that what we're calling it now?"

"Everything is an acronym today," said Merlin with a shrug. "TLS - The Lancelot Situation."

Closing his eyes, Arthur let out a sigh. The Lancelot Situation had been a mess. During their last reincarnation, bored to death at The Great Exhibition, Arthur had escaped his uptight family, found Merlin and went wandering outside where they chanced across Lancelot, sitting in a field of flowers, who seemed to fancy himself some sort of poet. Merlin had brought with him some of his homebrewed beer and the three of them had partaken in it. Somewhere in the middle of conversations about republics, free trade and factories, Arthur and Merlin had decided it was a good idea to tell Lancelot that he was reincarnated.

He took it well, at first, although he never did have memories of his past life the way Arthur and Merlin did.

Some months later, Arthur learnt from a mutual friend that Lancelot had been sent to an asylum after he wouldn't stop insisting that he was a Knight and thus should be allowed into the Camelot Army. They broke Lancelot out with Merlin's magic.

"Surely, I was reincarnated for a reason," Lancelot had moaned piteously as they sat in Merlin's crumbling house. "What better reason than to lead the Camelot Army to glorious victory?"

"Firstly, there aren't any wars to fight right now. Secondly, did you think they were going to let you walk into the army just like that?" Merlin took another gulp of his beer. "You should have come to us."

And that was how the Merlin and Arthur Spiritualists became the Merlin, Arthur and Lancelot Spiritualists, which shouldn't have been a problem. Only Lancelot was sad all the time, because he imagined a more glorious future for himself, not one that involved crawling around dirty basements and discovering that 8 out of 10 times, those strange noises were really just rats. And it turned out that even those bothered by the supernatural didn't want to deal with morose mediums.

"He took his reincarnation a little too seriously. It messed with his mind and emotions," said Arthur. "He should have been reincarnated this time instead of Gwaine. There's actually something more than spirit leakage happening. Lancelot would be all over this."

"Maybe we should tell Gwaine too."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "What, no! He's happy running his hipster open-mic café. And without his memories, who is to say he will even believe us?"

"Camelot has been invaded by weird creatures every full moon which are handily defeated by a sexy dragon man and a weird, hooded man with a sword," said Merlin. "I promise you that reincarnation is not that hard to believe in."

"Excuse me, I am the sexy one. I am the one that Gwen is in love with, for one thing."

"Ha! And yet, you still haven't figured out how to make her love you in this form." From somewhere, Merlin pulled out the morning's newspaper. "Look here – the enigmatic Dragoon once again comes to Camelot's rescue. Enigmatic. That means mysteriously handsome."

Arthur snatched the newspaper. "That means mysterious only. And why is the whole article about you, with only one line about me?"

"That's because I am the sexy, enigmatic one." Merlin grinned and walked out of the room.

"You're not even interested in relationships or sex!"

"Doesn't mean I don't like being attractive."

Arthur closed up the secret room, picked up his now cold coffee and scowled at it. "So do we tell Gwen?"

The grin dropped from Merlin's face. "You're her best friend. You decide. Now, I have to get to work. It's a pity my money never gets reincarnated with me."

"I have enough money for the both of us."

Merlin pulled on his coat. "That is true. But I work in a university science lab. Where better to test the manticore ash? Magic has identifying marks so I want to check if it's consistent across all the creatures."

When Merlin left, Arthur took a sip of his coffee, then dumped the rest into the basin. As usual, his mind went to Gwen. How often he had fantasised about telling her the truth, that she was his reincarnated Queen? Aside from Merlin, she was the other one who always reincarnated at the same time. But while he and Merlin always remembered when they turned 21 - the moment Merlin's magic would suddenly make an appearance and the strange happenings would start - Gwen never did. It made relationships with her tricky and after the disaster in the 17th century, Arthur had quickly learnt that he might be fated to fall for her in each and every life, but it didn't necessarily mean she would feel the same way.

The alarm on his phone went off, cutting into his thoughts and reminding him that he had an emergency meeting with his Vice-President, Pete, to discuss some suspicious activities that they had discovered in their network. With a muttered curse, Arthur padded into the bathroom for a quick shower before his high-strung assistant got worried about his tardiness.

George, his driver, was punctual as usual, the low slung, bright red car idling just outside the main doors of Arthur's apartment building. With a nod at the doorman, Arthur slid into the cool interior of the car and leaned into the soft leather. The three of them had gone shopping for the car together and Gwen had zeroed in on the car. Of course, after he bought it for the sole reason that she was taken by it, Gwen started teasing him about the car, suggesting that its power was compensation for something. She was such a pain.

He pulled out his phone and when Gwen answered his call in her usual chirpy manner, his smile only got bigger.

"How are you feeling?"

"A bit sore but otherwise I'm fine. What about you? Did you get enough rest?"

"I did. I'm on my way to work. Want a lift?"

Gwen's laugh caressed his spine. "Tempting, but you did say that you had an important meeting this morning. Half an hour on the train won't kill me."

"It won't be much trouble and I won't be too late."

"Arthur, I can make it to my office myself. Just remember to get Nadeem to pencil in that interview with me this week. I'll even let you pay for the meal."

"Right."

"You're going to forget."

"I wouldn't forget about you," said Arthur.

Gwen snorted into the phone, then with a quick goodbye, their connection ended and Arthur missed her immediately.

Despite not picking Gwen up, Arthur was still ten minutes late for the meeting and was met at the door by Nadeem, who was chewing on his pencil frantically, signalling his anxiety. Arthur patted him on the shoulder, then walked into the large boardroom. He hated the large, rectangular state-of-the art table that his father had installed in the middle of room. Too much metal and glass for Arthur's taste. Only two people sat at the table - Pete and his chief security officer, Sera.

"Finally," said Pete.

Knowing that it would piss him off, Arthur smirked at Pete, waiting till he settled down at the head of the table before pulling off his sunglasses.

"Sera, now that Arthur has graced us with his presence, why don't you share what you discovered."

She nodded and with a click of a button, the screen in the front of the room flickered on.

Arthur had convinced himself that Pete was making a mountain out of a molehill when he'd contacted him a few days ago. Pete had a tendency to see everything as a catastrophic disaster. Now, as Sera spoke, Arthur realised that it was indeed a mountain. Not a very big mountain perhaps, but a mountain nevertheless.

"How long has this been going on?"

"It started small, perhaps three months ago."

Arthur let out a breath. "Do we know who is responsible?"

"Not yet."

"And it's not simply negligence?"

Sera shook her head. "Someone or many someones are doing this on purpose."

For the third time that day, Arthur muttered, "damn."

"We need to keep this out of the press," said Pete. "Shouldn't be too hard since we own most of it."

"I want updates everyday on the investigation," said Arthur. "And no one else is to know about this. Keep it between us."

Pete stood. "But you'll tell Merlin and Gwen."

Arthur scowled. "What I tell Merlin and Gwen is my business."

"Not when it involves the company," said Pete. "What help would a lab technician and a budding writer be anyway?"

"Don't forget who the boss is here."

Pete's lips pressed together but he inclined his head. "Noted. I'll work with Sera and we'll convene for an update tomorrow."

"Good."

The glass door shut silently and Arthur was left alone, surrounded by metal, glass and his troubled thoughts. Standing at the window, Arthur stared down at the buzzing city Camelot was. Three - or was it four - reincarnations before, Camelot had been just a town - one of the biggest in Albion, but roads were still made of dirt and the stars could still be seen at night. Life had seemed simpler then.


	3. Chapter 3

_The mask hid half his face and obscured his eyes, but it didn’t matter because Jennifer knew him, understood him even if she couldn’t look into his eyes. She pushed away the thought that -_

“Aren’t you supposed to be meeting Arthur Penn for dinner? Why are you still here?” Marilyn, her colleague and sometimes friend asked as she leaned over the low, flimsy cubicle wall, one thin, plucked eyebrow arched.

Gwen immediately jabbed at her keyboard, relief coursing through her as the document minimised, revealing a photo of her, Arthur and Merlin squinting into the sun. She turned and flashed Marilyn a smile. “You gave me a shock! I was just doing some last minute research.”

That thin, plucked eyebrow lifted even higher, disappearing into the thick bangs that covered Marilyn’s forehead. She nodded at the newspaper with a large photo of Dragoon and the Swordsman splashed on it next to Gwen’s laptop. “Research into Dragoon, who as far as I know, is not the subject of your book. And that’s not even today’s newspaper.”

“It just happened to be there.” Gwen stood and shoved the newspaper into her drawer. She tossed her notebook into her bag. Pen, notebook, recorder and phone. That must be everything. A glance at the frog clock that sat on her desk, a present from Merlin delivered to her with a wink that she still didn’t understand, told her that she was still early for her meeting with Arthur.

“Right. Sometimes, I think you’re more interested in Dragoon than in Arthur Penn.”

Gwen slung the bag onto her shoulder. “I’m just curious about who he really is. What does he look like? What does he do when there are no magical creatures on the prowl? What does he like to eat? Does he always wear that purple cloth around his neck? And if he does, what is he hiding?”

Marilyn’s nails clacked against the cubicle wall as she drummed her fingers. “I do want an answer to that purple cloth question. Maybe we can offer him a makeover with the magazine. Just imagine - we can jazz up his country boy clothes, get rid of that rag around his neck and put him in a nice suit. Or maybe something more edgy - fur maybe. Like a gladiator wrestling mythical beasts, winning and wearing the spoils of his victory.”

“I’ll ask him when I see him,” laughed Gwen. “Hey Dragoon, would you like to do a fashion spread for Metropolitan magazine. We’re not the biggest magazine in town but we’re your biggest fans. Also, haven’t you always wanted to be a caveman?”

Marilyn let out a sigh. “Are you sure you don’t need a photo spread for Arthur Penn? Now, him I’ll put in leather. Or nothing.”

“You’re in a relationship, Marilyn.”

“Hey, Joanne is as in lust with Arthur as I am,” said Marilyn. “We read gossip about him in bed -”

Gwen raised her hands. “Ok. I don’t need to know what you and Joanne do in bed. Now I really have to go.”

The car sent to bring her to the restaurant where Arthur wanted to eat was idling outside the entrance to her office block when she walked out.

“Hey, George.” She greeted Arthur’s chauffeur then slid into the car, sinking into the seat’s leathery embrace. The joys of being rich. It was no wonder that he was Camelot’s most eligible bachelor. One day, he would get married, probably to one of those women he tended to date – blonde, tall, leggy and of impeccable heritage. None of these descriptions applied to her which was why she was careful to keep her crush for him when they were in university under wraps. She had thought she was over him but sometimes she wondered. Several moments had passed between them in the past few months that made Gwen wonder if Arthur felt something more than friendship for her too. Like last night, when he’d cleaned her scratches, then stayed with her most of the night, one arm wrapped around her shoulders, eating ice cream and watching terrible movies. But Gwen was far too much of a coward to do anything, the spectre of losing his friendship far too terrifying.

“Where are we headed today?” Gwen leaned forward and opened the privacy screen so she could chat with George.

“Japanese, I believe. It’s a new place.”

Gwen made a face. Arthur’s love for raw fish continued to mystify her. At least she enjoyed the fried stuff. “How’s Denise and the children?”

“Good. Alex just came in second in the school’s spelling bee. She can spell words I’ve never heard of. I don’t know what it is Denise feeds her but she’s a brainy one. Mr Penn says if she continues to do well, he’ll give her a scholarship to attend Lakeside School for Girls.”

“Lakeside!” Gwen whistled. “That’s prestigious. Seems like a lot of pressure for a little girl though. Not that you or Denise are pressuring Alex, I’m sure. It’s just that it’s such a pity if she spent all her time studying instead of running around outside playing, and I should stop talking now.”

“I know you mean well, Gwen,” said George with laughter in his voice. “And you should stop talking because we’re here.”

“I’ll get some takeaway for you later,” said Gwen as she opened the door, the cool evening air hitting her. “See you.”

With barely a purr, the car drove off, sliding smoothly into the peak hour traffic. Gwen straightened her dress before pushing open the heavy doors that separated the haves from the unwashed masses outside the restaurant. She was led to a private booth, tucked in the corner of the restaurant. As usual, Arthur stood when she approached the table, kissing her cheek briefly.

“You look good.”

“You always say that. It loses meaning when you say it all the time.”

He shrugged. “You always look good to me.”

“Be careful,” said Gwen as she opened the menu, keeping her tone light and her eyes on the wide variety of raw fish on offer. “I might get the wrong idea.”

He caught her in his gaze. “How do you know it’s the wrong idea?”

And again, that moment was there again. The moment when Gwen wondered if she should put herself out there.

But then, Arthur laughed.

“I didn't scout the restaurant beforehand. Didn’t realise that it was so romantic. Anyway, I was thinking dinner first, then interviews.” He gestured to a large bag that he had beside him. “As a gesture of my sincerity, I brought a photo album for you.”

“Baby?”

“Secondary school.”

Gwen grinned. “And I suppose even if I asked nicely you won’t show me till after dinner.”

“Of course not. Never mix pleasure with business.”

Arthur ordered a selection of sushi while Gwen settled for some noodles. Hot, thoroughly cooked noodles. They chatted - he told her about a new show that his television arm was picking up and the drama that was happening behind the scenes while she shared her latest attempt to cross-stitch.

“You’ve started a new project? I don’t remember seeing your finished fairies around the well design.”

“I messed up some stitches.” She looked at Arthur and tried not to smile. “Anyway, I got a custom pattern of Dragoon.”

He reacted as she expected. Predictable man. “Dragoon! What about the Swordsman?”

“Well, I don’t think that could manage two people so I had to choose between them.”

Arthur narrowed his eyes. “You’re teasing me.”

“I don’t know why you’re always so defensive of the Swordsman,” said Gwen with a laugh. “It’s cute. I almost think you have a crush on him.”

“I just think that people don’t give him enough -” His phone beeped and the smile that was on his face faded. “Uh, I have to go.”

“Go? Now? Is Merlin alright?”

Arthur nodded and slipped his phone into his pocket as he stood. “Nothing to worry about. Finish your food. George will bring you home.”

“What about our interview?” She stood as well, concern and annoyance warring in her. “You promised -”

“I know. I’m so sorry but uh - I need to feed my cat.”

Annoyance started to win. “You don’t have a cat!”

“It’s the office cat. We just got her.”

“I can go -”

The kiss Arthur dropped on her cheek barely hit its aim and was not enough to ease her growing irritation with him. But before she could say anything, Arthur was gone and she was all alone in that romantic, private booth, fuming. A cat. A cat in his office that he’d forgotten to feed. Did Arthur think she was a fool? She called the waiter over, her appetite disappearing.

“Mr Penn said to put the meal on the bill. Would you like some dessert, miss?”

“No, thanks. I’m done.” Gwen picked up her handbag and was just about to leave when she noticed that Arthur had left his photo album behind. At least she had that, she thought, grabbing it. With every step that she took, her mind churned. Arthur was sometimes evasive when she wanted to hang out and he didn’t but she had attributed that to him going on dates that he didn’t want to tell her about. But, obviously, that wasn’t the reason for today’s botched dinner. Could it be that he really didn’t want to do the interview? Initially, he had been fairly enthusiastic about the biography, keen that it would put to rest some outlandish notions the public had of him. However, as time passed, Arthur seemed to have lost interest in it.

Still, that was no reason for him to be so rude tonight.

In fact, thought Gwen, as she stepped through the heavy doors and the cool evening air smacked her in the face, Arthur would never behave in this manner if it wasn’t anything important.

“Where did Arthur go, George?”

“No idea, Gwen. Told me to wait for you, then grabbed a cab.”

“Did you see which way the cab went?”

The car pulled away from the kerb. “Up Ealdor Street. Home, Gwen?”

“No, let’s go up Ealdor Street.”

“Gwen -”

“Aren’t you curious? Worried? Does Arthur do this often? Go places without you?” Leaning forward, Gwen tried to read George’s face in the flashing street lights.

“Gwen -” said George again, a warning in his tone.

“You’re a good employee, George.” Gwen slumped back into the leather seats and silently wished that George wasn’t such a good employee. “Let me out then. I’ll walk up Ealdor Street.”

George made a sharp right turn into Ealdor Street. Then, he sighed. “Making you walk is probably a greater sin than stalking my boss.”

“I don’t want -”

“It’s fine, Gwen. It’s fine.”

Aside from a few cars, Ealdor Street was empty, unsurprising since it was home to various office buildings including hers. But it wasn’t where Arthur’s office was. she called Arthur, then Merlin but as expected neither one of them answered. Seeing how attached Merlin was to his phone, it was obvious that something was up and that something involved the two of them.

Without her.

“We’re at the end of the street,” said George. “Shall we head to your home -”

Purple light flashed in the distance.

“Oh no.”

Gwen knew that George was less than keen on his part in this but he obediently drove towards where they had seen the light. All sorts of thoughts and possibilities raced through Gwen’s mind - did Arthur and Merlin know Dragoon and the Swordsman? Or was it just a coincidence that they all happened to be in the same area at the same time?

“Here. I think they were here.” Winding down the window, she sniffed the air. “I can smell smoke.”

Once the car came to a stop, Gwen hopped out and walked to where there was a smudge of ash on the ground - an obvious sign that Dragoon had slayed yet another monster in that area. But they were too late and aside from the ash and lingering smell of smoke, there was no sign of anyone. She turned to the car where George was speaking on the phone, a frown etched on his face.

“Yes, I understand. Of course, Mr Penn -”

Gwen gestured for the phone.  George shook his head and turned away.

“Let me talk to Arthur.”

“Yes, she’s with me. She wants to talk to you - yes, ok.” George handed the phone to Gwen.

Immediately, Arthur launched into the lecture Gwen knew was coming. When he finally took a breath, Gwen muttered an insincere apology and assured him that she was fine.

“Come over to my place,” said Gwen. “You still owe me that interview.”

“I can’t.”

“Why? Your cat needs cuddling now?”

“Look, Gwen -”

“Forget it. I’m tired and upset. I’m going home. You should be pleased.” Arthur said something but Gwen had passed the phone back to George. Without even looking at George, she opened the car door and slid inside, blinking away the tears that had suddenly sprung up. She closed her eyes, leaning her head against the seat and tried not to think about Arthur blatantly lying to her.

It didn’t take long for George to arrive at her apartment block. She said a quiet goodbye to him, then got out of the car. As she did so, her hand hit something - it was Arthur’s photo album. For a moment, she wanted to leave it in the car, but then, she grabbed it and took it with her.

Her stomach was rumbling by the time she entered her apartment, and Gwen thought back to the half-finished bowl of noodles she had left in the restaurant. That was all Arthur’s fault. She pulled out a packet of potato chips and tore into it, settling on the sofa, planning to spend the rest of the night fuming over Arthur. Halfway through the bag of chips, Gwen reached for the photo album and flipped it open.

There were photos of Arthur with his parents. He was such a scrawny teen with such bad hair and if Gwen hadn’t been so pissed with him, she might have texted him to tease him. There were photos of him at fencing training, then holding aloft various trophies. Merlin appeared fairly regularly, his ears still far too big for his face and his smile still wide.

Then, she turned the page again.

It was a photo of Arthur with his arm slung around Merlin, both of them grinning. It wasn’t much different from any other photos with the two of them, only around his neck, Merlin wore a purple cloth.


	4. Chapter 4

Arthur stood in the shadows as Merlin attempted to disarm the security alarms with his magic, and while he was concerned about the interaction between magic and technology, his mind was on other things. As if to compound his mood, it had started drizzling.

“Office cat? Really?”

“Focus on your magic.” Arthur rubbed his face and glanced at his phone again. He closed his eyes, Gwen’s cold word still ringing in his ears. “I couldn’t think of anything else. If I’d said that someone was hurt, she would have insisted on coming along with me.”

“For such an influential man in Camelot, you’re useless. Watch out!” A small puff of purple smoke rose from the gate and Merlin place a hand on the handle and gave a quick tug. Arthur braced himself for the shrill sound of alarms, even though he knew that it was more likely that this brand new building would house an silent alarm. “Are you coming?”

Stuffing his hands into his pockets, Arthur followed Merlin into the university building. It was dark and eerily silent, their wet shoes making squelching noises with every step. This was obviously Merlin’s second home and he navigated the long, labyrinth corridors with ease. 

“Here,” said Merlin. He raised his hand, muttered a few words, then pushed the door open. Arthur entered what looked like a typical science laboratory. He ducked past a skeleton that hung near the door, causing Merlin to laugh. “That’s Betty.”

“Nice to meet you,” Arthur muttered. He followed Merlin deeper into the stark white and metal laboratory, taking in all the strange looking machines around the lab. Merlin stopped at a table, opened some drawers and pulled out all sorts of apparatus which he arranged neatly. He snapped on a pair of gloves and turned to Arthur.

“The ash?”

Digging into his pocket, Arthur pulled out a small bag of dirt that he’d scooped from the ground and placed it on Merlin’s outstretched hand. Impatiently, Arthur waited as Merlin performed a series of tests on the ash. It got boring very quickly, so Arthur wandered around the laboratory, poking and prodding at various pieces of equipment, his mind oscillating between what just happened and Gwen.

“Maybe you should go see Gwen,” said Merlin, not bothering to look up from the machine that was doing something sciency to the ash. “You’re rather distracting.”

Arthur leaned against a metal counter and picked up some sort of measuring device. “I think she might be a little upset with me.”

“A little upset huh? Is she still ignoring your calls and messages?” Merlin pressed a button and the machine he was fiddling with came to life, filling the room with a low hum. “I don’t need a machine to tell me that something is weird. Put that down.”

“I don’t need a machine to tell me that either. It’s not even close to the full moon and a monster that powerful is attacking. How did they get past the veil? And you haven’t told me how you even knew the chimera had appeared.”

“This.” With his attention still focused on the machine in front of him, Merlin stretched out his skinny arm.

“What? Your arm hair?”

This time Merlin looked up with a scowl. “No. The watch. I’d been working on it for a while -”

“You never told me you were doing this -”

“Since when do I have to report everything to you?”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “So what? The watch beeps when something breaks through the veil?”

“Basically.” The scowl transformed into a smug grin. “I won’t bore you with the details but I figured out how to put magic into technology.”

“I was wondering about that,” said Arthur. “Didn’t you tell me before your magic didn’t work on modern technology?”

“I did but then I - oh, hang on.” The low hum stopped and Merlin grabbed a piece of paper that the machine spat out and frowned. “I think someone is trying to kill Gwen.”

Fear, cold and sharp, shot through him. “Are you sure?”

“No, I’m not. But I can’t think of any other explanation. The chimera has the same monster markers as the past three creatures that -”

Footsteps and muffled voices came from the corridors outside. 

“Damn grad students,” muttered Merlin as he grabbed the rest of the ash. “Let’s go.”

“Where?”

“Here.” Merlin pushed open a window, swung one leg over and in a blink of an eye, disappeared out of the window. Then, his head popped up again. “Come on!”

Arthur swore, then climbed out of the window behind Merlin, swearing again when he realised the only way down was via a large pipe. They made their way down a large pipe, easy for Merlin who wasn’t encumbered with a sword. 

“Do you do this often?” grumbled Arthur. His sword hit the pipe, throwing Arthur off balance and it was only his arms that kept him from falling. He swore.

Merlin grinned up at him. “And here I thought you were the fit one.”

Arthur swore once more.

Finally, they both hopped onto the wet grass, Merlin doing so with the grace of an elephant, stumbling onto his knees. The moment Merlin got back onto his feet, they ran.

At one of those all-night restaurants that dotted the center of the city, they picked up some greasy burgers and fries. Slumped in a corner seat, trying to avoid the unknown patch of stickiness on the wall, they ate for a while in silence, before Merlin finally broke it.

“It’s the same ash,” he said around a large bite of his burger. Rubbing his chest, he swallowed, then continued. “When I first started tracking the creatures we killed, none of them had the same monster markers.”

“Monster markers still sounds as ridiculous today as the day you coined it.”

“It’s alliterative. I suppose I could give it a more scientific sounding name but I am not sure about the conventions of naming other-worldly creatures. I mean -”

Arthur waved a chip at Merlin, catching his attention again. “Never mind that. What does all the creatures having the same monster markers mean really?”

“I don’t really know. But it feels deliberate - these creatures have something in common that they shouldn’t have - and I don’t have any proof, but I think they are manufactured.”

“Like in a factory?” An image of a conveyor belt carrying various animal parts and masked people randomly putting them together formed in his brain. That would explain that weird creature they had defeated some weeks ago - it had the body of a lion, wings of an eagle and face of a bear. 

“Like being spelled, conjured up,” said Merlin with a hint of impatience. “Like someone is doing this on purpose -”

Arthur swallowed the last bit of his burger, washing it down with a big gulp of his drink. “And since it’s happening around Gwen, you think someone is out to kill her. But why?”

“I wonder if Morgana is back,” said Merlin slowly, his eyes focused on the napkin he was slowly shredding into tiny pieces. “She’s always had a thing against Gwen.”

“She’s never come back before. At least not to our knowledge.”

Merlin yawned, dropped the napkin and slouched further into his seat. “I know. Perhaps we’re reading too much into this. Maybe it’s all coincidences.” He yawned once more. “Boy, I’m exhausted and I need to be at work in 4 hours.”

“You’ll continue to look into the ash?”

“Of course.”

By the time Arthur reached his home, he too could barely keep his eyes open. A glance at his phone showed that Gwen had read his messages but hadn’t replied. The rock that had taken up residence in his heart since their last phone call only got heavier. He stared at her laughing face, delight shining in her eyes and thought about how he had made her laugh like that. Too reluctant to turn the screen off and have Gwen’s face disappear, Arthur crawled into bed, stared at her face on his phone until sleep overtook him and the phone fell on his head.

George had infinite patience, Arthur acknowledged as he entered his car the next morning. After the night that he’d had, his dreams-plagued sleep completely unhelpful, it wasn’t surprising that he was over an hour late. 

“Sorry, George.”

“It’s no problem, Mr Penn.” George turned the key and the car purred to life. Leaning his head against the soft leather, Arthur closed his eyes. He shifted, trying to make himself comfortable when his hand brushed against something. He closed his fingers around the small piece of metal.

A bobby pin.

Gwen’s.

With a sigh, Arthur slipped it into his pocket. In his head, he tossed about all the information that had come to light. Merlin would be the first to point out that Arthur’s understanding of magic was limited and a lot of what Merlin had put together had seemed like more conjecture than anything. After all, they had been through several reincarnation cycles, and while all of them had their challenges, none had been anything like this. 

Still, if Gwen was in danger, then he needed to keep her safe. She should be safe in daylight, which gave him a whole day to work out how to continue to ensure her safety, especially when she was clearly pissed off with him. But she’d been annoyed with him before, and he’d always been able to wriggle his way back into her good graces. Surely, this was just a temporary blip in their friendship. 

It took several rings before Merlin picked up his phone. As he waited, he slid the privacy window close. George wasn’t one who would eavesdrop nor one who would gossip, but the fewer people involved in this the better.

“Merlin. Make time for dinner tonight.”

“Why?”

“We need to tell Gwen and I’m not doing it alone.”

“She’s talking to you? She’s ignored my texts this morning. I don’t know why she’s taking her anger with you out on me,” said Merlin sulkily. 

Arthur ignored Merlin’s whine. “I think that we need to tell her about everything.”

Merlin didn’t say anything and the silence stretched out. “Even the reincarnation?”

“Maybe not that. I’m not sure.” Arthur sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “This is as much your secret as mine. I need you to be ok with telling Gwen.”

“You know I have no problem telling Gwen, especially if it’s in her best interest. What I’m not that keen on is being there when you tell her.”

“Don’t be a coward. You’re the great Dragoon. 7pm at my house.” Then Arthur hung up.

“Arthur.” Gwen’s voice was cool, but at least she answered the phone.

“Gwen. I’m so sorry about last night. Are you free for dinner tonight? Let me make it up to you.”

It took a while before Gwen spoke. “I’m pretty busy.”

“Have dinner with me and I’ll explain what happened last night. Please.”

“Everything?”

Arthur blinked, uncertainty filling him at her tone. Gwen knew something. “Everything,” he said.

“Ok. I’ll see you tonight.”

His office was bustling when he entered. Arthur nodded and smiled at his various employees and muttered a quick apology to Nadeem who had inundated Arthur’s phone with messages reminding him of his various appointments.

Pushing open his office door, Arthur groaned when he saw Pete on his chair. Over the past few days, Sera had been working on finding out who had been fiddling with the numbers, only to discover even more problems. Despite what Arthur had believed was a top-notch security system, it appeared that someone was able to get into it. From what Sera had told him, whoever this person was hadn’t been able to access the more secured parts of the system and Sera had disconnected those parts from the main network, which made work difficult.

Now that Pete was frowning as he sat on Arthur’s chair, Arthur braced himself for more bad news. 

Pete stood as Arthur walked in, glancing pointedly at his watch. 

“What’s the problem? I assume there must be one since you’re here.” Arthur shrugged out of his jacket. 

“The security breach.”

Arthur hesitated a moment, before hanging up his jacket. “More bad news?”

“Sera wants to hire an external forensic firm to look into the breach.”

“And I take it from your frown that you disagree?” 

“The moment we take this out of this office, there will be talk, rumours. It’s not good for business.”

Arthur sat down. “Isn’t Sera’s team one of the best in the business?”

“She says that they are getting nowhere with their investigation. Apparently there are strange traces in the breach that she cannot explain. This morning she was rattling off a whole bunch of words I didn’t understand. Someone is trying to take down this company. We don’t know who, we don’t know why and we apparently don’t even know how. This is serious.”

“I know.”

“I want to start a parallel investigation,” said Pete. “Into our employees. Nothing too invasive, but a background check. See if any of them have reason to want to go against us.”

“That’s the reason you’re lurking in my office.” Arthur rubbed his head “Fine. Go ahead. Now leave me alone.”

With a curt nod, Pete walked out of the room. At the door he paused. “You really shouldn’t give out your office number to your admirers.”

“Did Gwen call?” The moment he asked, Arthur realised that it was a foolish question, not just because he'd just spoken to her. But she only ever called him on his mobile phone.

Pete rolled his eyes. “Said her name was Fay.”

“I don’t know anyone called Fay. Did she leave a number? And why are you answering my phones?”

“She didn’t. I figured you would have her number.”

Arthur bristled at Pete’s tone. “My personal life isn’t your business.”

In response, Pete simply stepped out of Arthur’s office, letting the door slowly swing shut. 

Arthur didn’t have time to wonder about unknown women calling him, although the fact that she had his personal office number was a little concerning. But among all problems that were plaguing his life now, random women getting hold of his contact details was incredibly low on the list. 

“Nadeem, contact Sera and tell her I need to see her today.” Arthur put the phone down and closed his eyes. His mother was right - it never simply rained, it poured.


	5. Chapter 5

She used to be slightly embarrassed at her scrapbook of Dragoon and the Swordsman - various newspaper cuttings all filed neatly by date - but now they came in incredibly useful. Her diary opened next to her, her notebook on all things Dragoon on the other side and a fresh piece of paper in front of her. In front, her laptop sat open, her browser opened to one of the most popular Dragoon forum sites on the Internet. If there was one thing that Gwen was good at, it was putting things together through meticulous research.

Her phone buzzed and she glanced at the message. It was Marilyn checking in on her. Again. Guilt tugged at her for calling in sick when she wasn’t, but there was no way Gwen was going to be able to concentrate on work today, not when her head was full of suspicions and questions and her heart was heavy at the implications. In fact, sleep hadn’t come easy last night and her eyes were feeling gritty and her brain slightly woolly. But she had to get to the bottom of this before she met up with Arthur, that lying, no-good, ex-best friend of hers. Her heart squeezed at that thought.

Pulling up a blank spreadsheet, Gwen began to key in various dates, cross-checking them with her diary, the forum and the newspaper articles. It took quite a while - they had been active for several years - but slowly, something like a pattern emerged on her screen. The pattern wasn’t neat or conclusive but it did give strength to her own suspicions. Her stomach clenched, whether as a result of anger or hurt, Gwen wasn’t sure. Getting up from her table, she walked to her kitchen, pulled open the freezer only to see a new tub of cookies and cream ice cream that Arthur had bought to replace the one they devoured that night she was attacked. She slammed the freezer close, her appetite disappearing.

Her mind drifted back to the brief phone call with Arthur earlier. As expected, he had been apologetic but he’d also been distracted, tension in his every word. Gwen squashed the instinctive concern that bubbled up in her as she turned from the refrigerator. She was angry with him - him and Merlin - and she needed to remember that. With a huff, Gwen walked back to her computer and stared at it again, as more questions bombarded her. But by far, the biggest one was how could her best friend of over 5 years lie to her like that? He had known about her interest in Dragoon and the Swordsman, had had several conversations with her speculating about them, had listened to her plans to write about them.

The buzz of her intercom jolted Gwen out from her increasingly aggravating thoughts. It was far too early for Arthur and Merlin.

“Hello?”

“It’s me. Marilyn. Let me up.”

Gwen unlocked the building’s main door, then quickly shut down her laptop. She was just shoving some of the loose pieces of paper under her laptop when the knock came.

“Marilyn!” Gwen opened the door, gesturing for her to enter. “This is a surprise. How did you know where I lived?”

Marilyn walked in, handing Gwen a small box before shrugging off her deep green designer coat and passing it to Gwen, her eyes narrowing. “Pulled your address from the HR database. I was concerned about you, but apparently, I didn’t need to be. You look perfectly fine. Brought you some chocolate from that shop near our office.”

“Wow. Thank you. I’m feeling better now. This morning though -”

Red manicured nails waved in her face. “Don’t bother lying, Gwen. I totally understand the need to take a day off every now and then. What is hurtful is that you didn’t trust me with the truth.”

Gwen blinked, then shut the door before turning back to see Marilyn walk over to her dining table, where all her things were. “Uh, how about you have a seat on the sofa and I’ll get you something to drink. Tea? Coffee? I think I have some fruit juice.”

“Tea would be nice. With honey.”

Marilyn continued to stand, her eyes roaming around Gwen’s small, messy apartment. Gwen tamped down her feelings of being judged

“Let me get your tea.” Gwen gestured to the sofa again, waiting until Marilyn settled on it. “Be right back.”

It was the fastest cup of tea Gwen had ever made, but even then, by the time she returned to the living room, Marilyn was standing at the dining table again, flipping through Gwen’s file. It was only when Gwen cleared her throat did Marilyn look up, but it was obvious that she saw nothing wrong with what she had been doing, her hands still holding on to the file.

“It’s research.” Placing the cup of tea on the table, Gwen removed the file from Marilyn’s hands, closing it firmly and pushing it far from her reach.

Marilyn arched an eyebrow and a smile played on her lips. “You played hooky to research Dragoon? You’re a bigger fan than I thought.”

“How was work today?” It seemed rude to try and get Marilyn to leave when she’d made the effort to visit her, but the whole situation was uncomfortable. While the two of them generally got along well at work, their association outside the work place was limited. And there had to be something unethical about Marilyn using her position in the IT department to get her address.

“The usual. Rabiah called a meeting to discuss circulation numbers.”

“Let me guess - sales going down?”

Marilyn’s finally sat down, picked up her tea and lifted it. “You know it. Print can’t survive in the digital age. Rabiah needs to accept that and put more resources into our digital brand. But enough about work. I want to hear what you’ve uncovered about Dragoon and the Swordsman.”

“Nothing new really. You know how mysterious they are. I was feeling better so I thought I would work on some notes for my book.”

“I thought that you would be working on Arthur Penn’s book,” said Marilyn. “The news said that there was another incident last night.”

“Incident?”

“Don’t play dumb, Gwen.” Marilyn pointed to Gwen’s file. “You have been keeping close tabs on the duo.”

“You have to admit that they are fascinating. Who are they? Where did they come from? Why don’t other people have their powers?” As Gwen said those words, the feelings of hurt and anger started to bubble up in her. Arthur and Merlin knew the answers to all those questions, and for years, they had kept her in the dark.

Ignorant of the swirling emotions battling in Gwen’s stomach, Marilyn peppered Gwen with questions on Dragoon and the Swordsman. It took a lot of effort at first, for Gwen to focus on the conversation and to avoid giving away anything that she’d discovered earlier. And talking to Marilyn only made Gwen realise how much she wanted someone to discuss Dragoon and the Swordsman with. That used to be Arthur and Merlin, but now … Thankfully, the conversation soon moved to their jobs, the viability of the magazine and Marilyn’s surprising news that she was thinking of leaving the magazine.

“You know things aren’t looking good at the magazine and anyway, I have plans.”

“What plans?” Gwen asked.

Marilyn pressed her red lips together, as if regretting telling Gwen about her plans. Then, she shook her head and smiled. “My Aunt has a new venture and she’s asked me to come on board.”

“New venture? Is it in publishing?”

“No. More like human resource management.”

“Oh! Well, that’s quite a change.”

“Things can’t always stay the same,” said Marilyn. “Ah, I have to get home. Joanne is cooking dinner and she’s a stickler for punctua - are you expecting visitors?”

Gwen stood. “Yeah. Arthur and Merlin actually. Let me buzz them up.” She smiled at Marilyn. “You’ve always wanted to meet Arthur right? I guess now is your chance.”

Marilyn’s eyes widened. “Don’t let them up. Not yet.”

“What?” Gwen fingers hovered over the buttons of the intercom.

“I can’t see Arthur like this. I’m too dishevelled.” Marilyn stumbled over her words as she stood. She grabbed her handbag and her jacket. “I’ll just go off now.”

Gwen frowned. Marilyn was, as usual, impeccably put together. Not so much as a strand of hair was out of place. “But -”

“Seriously,” said Marilyn. “No one wants to meet someone they are attracted to when they look less than perfect.” She pulled open Gwen’s door, then slipped out.

“Bye,” called Gwen, but Marilyn had disappeared around the corner. It didn’t make much sense to Gwen, since Marilyn was bound to run into Arthur and Merlin anyway.

Her intercom buzzed again. “Gwen. I know you’re probably really pissed -”

Gwen hit the button, silencing the intercom and unlocking the main door.

 

* * *

 

Merlin hovered, Arthur perched and the three of them spent an uncomfortable amount of time in her small living room in silence. When Gwen opened her door earlier and came face to face with the two of them, both with suitably sheepish expressions on their faces, hurt and anger had rushed through her with an unexpected intensity and it was all she could do not to slam the door in their faces.

Merlin cleared his throat and he stepped away from the dining table. “Uh, pizza? It’s getting cold.”

“Yeah, we should eat.” Arthur jumped from the sofa and strode to the kitchen. “We got your favourite, Gwen.”

“Arthur even told them to put on extra cheese and pineapples. Sal’s Place was crowded as usual and -”

Gwen tuned out Merlin’s inane chatter and squeezed her eyes shut, trying to stem the sudden wetness she could feel. Seeing the two of them - her best friends - chatting about pizza while casually standing in her living room, like it was just any other day, like they hadn’t been lying to her for years. Despite her best efforts, a tear escaped and she sniffed. Immediately, a pair of arms wrapped around her and her face was buried in a hard chest. A familiar scent filled her nose and Arthur’s hot breath tickled her ear as he muttered a litany of sorries. Slowly, she was guided back to the sofa and gently pressed into it. When she opened her eyes, Merlin was offering her a handkerchief while Arthur knelt in front of her, his eyes pools of concern and worry. He took the handkerchief from Merlin and dabbed at her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” murmured Arthur. He dropped the handkerchief, then threaded his fingers through hers, his thumb rubbing across her knuckles. “I’m so, so sorry.”

Merlin continued to hover around the pizza.

“Tell me,” she rasped. “I want to know. Everything.”

Arthur glanced at Merlin, then back at her. Lifting one hand, he cupped her face and sighed. “Ok.”

Both of them were terrible story tellers. They jumped from idea to idea, and in many places, failed to provide any context and for the first ten minutes, Gwen simply stared at them as they talked about dragons and swords and a veil of some kind. Then, Arthur mentioned reincarnation.

“Reincarnation? Like being reborn in a different time? Over and over again?” She frowned. At the back of her mind, Gwen couldn’t help but wonder if both Arthur and Merlin were perhaps a little mentally unsound.

“More or less,” said Merlin, before launching into a long explanation, interrupted every now and then by Arthur.

Slowly, the pieces fell into place, even the most outlandish sounding claims started to sound possible, and Gwen found her anger and hurt morphing into utter fascination and curiosity as she got drawn into their story. When did her oh-so-ordinary life take this turn? At some point, her stomach rumbled and Merlin passed her a slice of lukewarm pizza which she bit into as Arthur continued talking. Merlin eased himself onto the sofa next to her, his bony hips nudging her closer to where Arthur was sitting. Arthur didn’t move, so Gwen ended up pressed against his side. It wasn’t anything new - goodness knows the two of them had snuggled on the sofa before, stuffed with ice cream with some action movie playing on the TV - yet, it was enough to distract Gwen from the stories. Instead, her attention shifted for a moment to Arthur’s warm thigh against hers, to the subtle scent of that cologne that he always wore. To her annoyance, Arthur continued talking, something about some man called Lance who couldn’t deal with the truth, obviously completely unaffected by her. She took a large bite of her pizza.

It was then she realised that Arthur had fallen silent.

“What is it?”

“I’m - We’re sorry we never told you,” said Arthur quietly. His hand drifted to hers, his fingers sliding between hers. “I’m so sorry.”

Hurt bubbled up in her again at his words and the and she yanked her hand away from Arthur’s. “Didn’t you trust me?”

“It’s not that,” said Arthur. “We didn’t want to burden you with this.”

“Burden?” Gwen couldn’t understand what he meant. “I talked to you -” She turned to look at Merlin, who stared into the cup he was holding. “- about Dragoon and the Swordsman so many times.”

“Gwen.”

Twisting so that she faced Arthur, Gwen jabbed his chest all the feelings of humiliation and betrayal returning to her in waves. “I told you my ideas, my feelings - did you laugh with Merlin about my crush on the Swordsman? Did you -”

“Gwen.” Arthur wrapped his hand over hers, loosening her grip and flattening her hand over his chest. Under her palm, Gwen could feel his thumping heart. “Gwen, we would never have laughed at you. Never.”

“So why didn’t you tell me?”

Arthur’s eyes darted to Merlin, who shrugged.

“I would have kept your secret,” said Gwen.

“It’s not that.” He swallowed and darted another glance at Merlin.

It was clear there were more secrets between them that she wasn’t privy to. And it didn’t seem like they were going to tell her. Pulling her hand from Arthur’s, she stood, wiping the feel of Arthur on her thighs. “Maybe you should go. Thanks for the stories and the pizza.”

Merlin stood as well. “Gwen, the thing is -”

“Don’t feel like you have to tell me anything,” she muttered as she crossed to her door. “After all, I’m just Gwen.”

“You’re reincarnated too,” blurted Merlin.

Her hand stilled on the door knob. “What?”

“You’re reincarnated. You were my wife.”

Gwen opened her mouth, but she couldn’t think of anything to say.

Arthur ran a hand through his hair and glanced sheepishly at her. “I guess there’s more we need to tell you.”

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

Merlin, quite wisely, didn’t say anything until his stomach broke the heavy silence in the car.

“Sorry,” muttered Merlin. “I didn’t eat much at Gwen’s. And my stomach hasn’t seem to have gotten the memo that we’re supposed to be sulking.”

“She chased us out of her house. She said not to contact her.” The laugh that escaped his throat was bitter and he squeezed his eyes shut. He dropped his head back against the leather of his car seat. Behind his lids, Arthur could still see Gwen’s face, the hurt and confusion in her eyes, the tight line on her lips and the utter lack of emotion in her voice when she ordered them to leave. “We didn’t even tell her about the attacks.”

“She didn’t take finding out she was your wife very well.”

Arthur cracked open an eye. “No, she didn’t. Thanks, by the way, for completely blindsiding me with that. Should have known that you couldn’t be trusted to follow a plan.”

“I thought it would make her more understanding.”

“Really. And how did you think that would work? She would suddenly remember her feelings for me and forgive me for lying to her all these years?” He straightened, running a hand through his hair. “We should go. She looks out of the window and sees us still here, she is only going to get madder.”

“I’m not the one at the wheel.”

Arthur let out an aggrieved sigh, turned the key and listened as his engine purred. He glanced out of his window but there was no sign of anyone. He scoffed inwardly. As if Gwen would be rushing out after them. His heart heavy, he released the brakes and eased away from the curb. Just as he turned the corner, he took one more futile look.

It was a demonstration of great restraint that Merlin didn’t say anything for the next 20 minutes or so, letting Arthur stew in his own thoughts. The plan hadn’t been to tell Gwen about her reincarnation, suspecting that she had enough to come to terms with when they explained about their alter-egos. In his mind, once Gwen had gotten used to things, forgiven him, then he would finally act on his feelings for her. Court her. Win her heart. Marry her. Make one successful life with her.

Fat chance of that happening now.

“Hey, drop me here.”

Arthur slowed down, pulling over. There was still a good ten minutes to Merlin’s apartment. “Where are you going?”

“Food. And a walk would probably clear my head. Plus, you’re a like a black hole of despair and I don’t want to be sucked in.” Merlin opened the door and swung his legs out before hesitating. “Gwen will forgive us,” he said quietly. “She’s always been the best person.”

Which was what made everything worse, although Arthur didn’t give voice to his thoughts, merely nodding at Merlin. For a moment, it looked like Merlin might lean over and hug him but Merlin simply nodded back before slipping out of the car. Arthur watched Merlin for a while, then drove back home, where he could lie in his bed and hopefully fall asleep and for a while, forget what a mess of his life was.

Arthur tossed his jacket onto his sofa and pulled out his phone, then realised that he’d silenced it before going over to Gwen’s.

Over 30 messages and 10 missed calls.

What on earth had happened in those few hours?

Swiping his thumb across the screen, wincing at the photo of Gwen that appeared, Arthur scrolled through the increasingly frantic messages from Nadeem, and then Pete. As he scanned the messages, his heart sank and he could feel a headache coming. Tension crept up his neck and just as he was about to call Pete, his phone chirped, the caller no one he knew.

“Hello?”

“Mr Penn. This is Susan Lim from the Camelot Observer -”

“How did you get my personal number?” Arthur yanked at his tie, loosening it.

Susan ignored Arthur’s question. “I received some very interesting documents in the mail today. I’ve been trying to reach you.”

“Interesting documents?”

“Oh? You haven’t heard?” Arthur could hear the glee in Susan’s voice. “Not like you not to be on top of things.”

“Let me call you back,” said Arthur. Hanging up on Susan, Arthur immediately called Pete. As the phone rang, he poured himself a drink. He had the sinking suspicion that he would need it.

Pete was unsurprisingly hysterical but for once, Arthur could empathise with him because right at this moment, he could feel the stress crawling up his spine, its fingers tightening around his chest. He ended the call, then sank into his sofa, not even bothering to switch on the lights. It seemed fitting to sit in the darkness.

His phone chirped again. Susan.

It was tempting to ignore her call, but he needed to take control of the narrative as soon as possible and where better to start than with an interview with Penn Media’s biggest competitor? But he couldn’t do that without knowing everything.

He jabbed at his phone. “Pete? Emergency meeting in an hour.”

 

* * *

 

There was a glint in Susan’s eyes that Arthur was not pleased to see. Still, politeness prevailed - Susan had earned at least that - and Arthur offered her his hand. Her grip was firm and her smile wide, if insincere.

As they sat down, Susan pulled out an envelop from her bag and slid it across Arthur’s table.

“I have to admit, what little there is there seems somewhat alarming.” Susan leaned back into the leather chair and crossed her legs. “I have always regarded you as an honest man, Arthur Penn, so the suggestion that you’ve been fudging your company’s financials …”

Arthur opened the envelop and pulled out a sheaf of papers. His eyes flicked over the lines of numbers, barely taking them in. It didn’t matter since Arthur knew what was on them - the manipulated accounts.

“What reason do I have to do this? I have enough money to last me several lifetimes.” He tossed the papers onto the table, then eyed the woman sitting across from him. Sharply dressed in a dark pants suit with one of those stylish short hair styles that was all the rage today, she looked every inch a professional despite the gossip rag that she worked for. Intelligent brown eyes watched him watch her through her oversized glasses.

“What reason do rich men have for doing anything?” She shifted, leaning forward. “It’s a big story, Arthur, and it’s only because of our history that I’m coming to you with it first.”

Arthur smirked. History was a nice way of putting it. The Camelot Observer His mind whirred, questions flying through from every direction. He needed to stall Susan so that Sefa and her team could get to the bottom of this. Yet, he suspected appeals to Susan’s better nature would come to naught.

“Big of you,” said Arthur. “What do you want from me?”

Her fingers steepled, she leaned closer. “A statement. Your side of the story.”

Arthur grinned. “Good try, Susan. You have some evidence that someone is messing with the accounts and some vague rumours from anonymous emails that I am the one involved. That’s barely a story, not for a newspaper that has been trying to hang on to its credibility.”

“What are you offering?” Susan’s lips curled into an answering smile. Arthur had already suspected she was no fool, and it was obvious that this was what she wanted. “Camelot Observer wants exclusive rights on the story, but I can be persuaded to perhaps delay printing these revelations.”

“Looks like we have some negotiation to do,” said Arthur. “I’m sure I can make it worth your while.”

This wasn’t Arthur’s first tangle with the Camelot Observer. Years of lawsuits filed against them failed to bankrupt them, thanks to Lord Cenred’s deep pockets. Ordinarily, Arthur was loathed to work with them, but if he wanted to keep a lid on this for the time being, he had little choice now.

“If,” said Susan, “you aren’t behind this, then you have someone in your office who is out to make you look as if you are. Any enemies, Arthur Penn?”

“Besides Camelot Observer?”

“I wouldn’t call us the enemy - just very interested in the truth.”

Arthur snorted. “You wouldn’t know the truth if it smacked you in the face.”

Susan stood. “With an attitude like this -”

He stood as well, reaching out a placating arm. “I apologise. As you can imagine, this isn’t a position that I want to be in.”

“No. I imagine someone like you has never been in a position where you need to ask for help.”

Arthur sat down again. It had been a long time since Arthur had had to personally negotiate anything, especially in this life time. But he hadn’t been king over several life times for nothing. As Susan slowly eased herself back into the chair, he smiled.

 

* * *

 

His phone in his left hand, Arthur lifted the glass in his right hand and drank deeply. The cool, sweet taste of the cola slid down his throat. He would have preferred something stronger, but in a few moments, despite the late hour, he would have to meet Pete and Sefa and he needed to be fully alert.

Just as he set his glass down and closed his eyes, his phone vibrated.

“Merlin, I’m in the middle of a business crisis at the moment.”

“There’s another attack. Texting you the details.”

The glass toppled onto his expensive white carpet, knocked over as Arthur jumped out of his seat. He yelled into his phone, but Merlin had hung up. Just at that moment a text message from Pete arrived, and with a swear, Arthur tossed the phone across the room. It landed with a dull thud onto his carpet. His feet moved him towards his hidden room, even as the thought that Merlin could probably handle any attack on his own crossed his mind. What he needed to do was focus on the trouble brewing at Albion Media. Pete and Sefa were expecting him soon, and what would they think if he turned up late and panting?

Excalibur gleamed under the self-indulgent spot lights he’d installed. He glanced down at Merlin’s text, then closed it to look at Pete’s hysterical one. As he closed Pete’s text, Gwen’s face stared out at him, her eyes bright with laughter. They had been having a picnic in the local park that day. She’d popped by his office with some sandwiches and coffee, and persuaded him to play hooky with her that afternoon. He hadn’t needed much convincing.

Arthur grabbed Excalibur.

Despite Merlin’s magic, it took Arthur three tries before he managed to plunge his sword into what he suspected was a Questing Beast.

“Not your best,” said Merlin as he squatted down to get a sample of the ash. “Does this place have anything to do with Gwen?”

Arthur looked around. “I think she shops at the 24-hour supermarket around the corner. Damn it.”

“They aren’t letting up.”

“No.” Arthur’s phone vibrated against his leg. “Have you found out anything?”

Pocketing the ash, Merlin sighed. “Not much. I am pretty sure that the same entity is summoning all these creatures. It’s not a random leaks at ley lines.”

Arthur’s phone vibrated again. “Do you think you can stay with Gwen tonight?”

“I was just thinking of that,” said Merlin. “Guess I’m not going to have the pleasure of your company.”

“No, sorry. But call me. For anything.”

“Yes, my lord.” Merlin bumped Arthur’s shoulder, tugged his beanie down over his ears then started walking towards Gwen’s apartment.

Digging out his phone, Arthur scrolled past Pete’s messages demanding to know where Arthur was. Then, he tapped on Gwen’s number. As he made his way to his car, he listened to the ringtone, willing Gwen to pick up.

“Arthur.” He heard her yawn, then what sounded like bedsheets rustling. Sleep laced her voice. “It’s late. Is something wrong?”

Warmth and relief rushed through him. “Hey. Did I wake you?”

“Arthur.” She sounded more awake now, and her tone cooled. “Why are you calling?”

“I just wanted to -”

“It’s late and I’m tired, Arthur.” Without a goodbye, she hung up on him. Pain laced through him and he dropped the phone onto the passenger seat of the car. Just as he started the car, his phone vibrated again. He glanced at it, seeing a picture of a frog pop up. Reaching over, he answered the phone.

“Pete. I’m on the way.”

“It’s past midnight, and we’ve been waiting for over half an hour. If you’re not interested -”

“I said I’m on the way. Do you have all the documents and information on hand?”

“Yes and Sera has -”

“I’ll be there in 10 minutes.”

The streets were mostly empty, which meant that news of the attack must have spread. It was convenient, making it easy for him to speed to his office. Lights blazed from the top floor of the building as Arthur eased his car into a street-level parking lot. In the lift, he smoothed down his clothes and hair, trying not to look like he’d spent the last half an hour battling a beast. A soft chime signalled his arrival at his floor and he stepped out.

Pete sat at the edge of his chair, his body practically vibrating with stress while a much calmer Sera lounged on the sofa, next to a pile of print outs. She looked up as he entered, then stood, bringing her laptop over to his desk.

“I want to show you what I’ve found.”

Arthur sat down and stared at lines and lines of code on the screen. Pete was on his feet as well, pacing in front of his desk.

“Someone has been injecting lines of code into our system.”

Arthur nodded. That sounded like a bad thing.

“And the code, to put it simply, is what is creating all sorts of problems -”

“So if you get rid of the code, it’ll be fixed?” That sounded manageable to Arthur. Then, all they needed was some PR intervention and things could go back to normal.

Sefa shook her head, her eyes filled with both regret and astonishment at his naivety. “It’s not quite so simple. Whoever is doing this is very skilled. The code is replicating. It’s like Medusa, cut off one head and two pops up in its place.”

Arthur rubbed his forehead.

“Someone is trying to bring us down,” said Pete, the words harsh. “It may well be Camelot Observer - that’s how they got news and information so quickly. They are the ones planting it.”

Sera leaned over the laptop and typed something. “Look at this - they left a calling card.”

Arthur squinted at the screen. More lines of code. “A calling card?”

“Like a signature.” Sera brought a finger up to point a line of code. “Here - it says m0rg. Never heard of them before. With such sophisticated work, you would -”

Arthur could feel Pete hovering behind him, trying to look at the screen without getting into Arthur’s personal space. Sera was still talking and Arthur suspected Pete was answering her, but nothing was able to penetrate the awful realisation that Morgana was back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while! I've been a little blocked with my writing, what with RL and becoming obsessed with FFXV.
> 
> I just want to say a heartfelt thanks for those of you who still read my stuff.


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